build on Winchester land? None of this makes any sense.
Colt cuts the engine and looks down at the keys in his lap. He doesn’t make any attempt to get out, but I scramble from the cab and run across the yard to the front door. I glance back at the man sitting in that blue truck which holds too many memories, and he climbs out of the car, torturously slow, and eats up the ground between us with his long strides. Colt slides the key in the lock and pushes the door open, gesturing for me to go first. I enter the space and walk through to the open-plan kitchen and dining. It’s beautiful—sleek, modern surfaces that I can’t imagine Colt picking out. Beyond the kitchen sits a spacious living room. The house is fully furnished and unused appliances sit on the countertop still wrapped in their plastic. “What is this place?”
“Yours.” His voice cracks over the word and he clears his throat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s yours.”
I turn and stare at him. “What?”
“I built it.” He drums his fingers on the counter beside him while he studies my reaction. “With help from your daddy and West.”
“When?”
“It was gonna be my wedding gift to you.”
I run my hands over the hewn oak mantle and say quietly, “You never asked me to marry you.”
“I didn’t get the chance.”
I swallow hard and glance around the room, my eye catching the familiar painting on the far wall. Unease prickles down my spine. “How do you have that painting?”
“I bought it.”
“No.” I shake my head and walk from the lounge into the hall. Several more canvases decorate the walls, and as I pass, every room holds more and more of my art. I come to the master suite and open the door, and there above the bed is my painting of this ranch, one I almost couldn’t part with. “You’re the private collector?”
He shrugs, but there’s one missing. One I simply titled Cowboy. One that holds Colt’s likeness. That one really did break my heart to sell. I walk past the en suite and walk-in closets to another door and turn the handle.
Natural light filters in through the huge doors opening out onto the deck. There are easels of all sizes lining the walls, and cabinets filled to bursting with paints and brushes, but on the one wall hangs my painting, my Colt. I absently reach out to touch it, and think better of it. Not just because the oil from my hands will destroy the paint, but because he’s here, watching me, waiting for me to say something. Out the window, there’s a clear view of our red oak, and the sight of that tree and the graves that rest beneath it cause my heart to shatter completely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Colt
Waiting on her reaction are some of the longest seconds of my life. Will she be angry? Call me a stalker? I’m suddenly not so sure I should have brought her here. What fucking good does it do either of us except rub more salt in the wound.
Lemon turns to me and her eyes are bright with tears. Well, hell. Here’s a reaction I didn’t anticipate.
“You did all of this?” Her voice is shaky as her eyes meet mine. “You made me a studio off our bedroom, bought this land? Off my father?”
“Not right away. He was letting me work it off.”
“For how long?”
“The last twelve years.”
“Colt. Why? He would have let you out of that deal.”
“I know, but I don’t break my promises.” I clench my jaw and stare up at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head. “It’s not like it ain’t true.”
“I don’t know how to be around you anymore without being mad.”
“Once upon a time you were just madly in love with me.” I swallow, and when it’s clear I don’t know how to respond to that, she says, “I don’t understand. If y’all built this house, finished it beautifully, then why are you still living in that run-down cabin by the B and B?”
“I thought about it. I come by every few weeks to clean it up, but I couldn’t move in here, not without …”
“Me?”
I glance at her baby blue eyes and look away just as fast. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You should live here, Colt. It makes no sense to have this big old house that you worked so hard for sitting here empty.”
“I’m already livin’ with the ghost of you everywhere